


Here For You

by LeastExpected_Archivist



Series: Doomed to Sorrow [2]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-02-04
Updated: 2002-02-04
Packaged: 2018-12-15 23:54:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11816880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeastExpected_Archivist/pseuds/LeastExpected_Archivist
Summary: By AallazarAragorn and Boromir are captured by a woman who wants to shatter the Fellowship. Second in the Legolas-Boromir story arc.





	Here For You

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Amy Fortuna, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Least Expected](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Least_Expected), which has been offline since 2002. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Least Expected collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/leastexpected/profile).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own them. If I did, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction under a fake name, would I?  
> Feedback: If you want to. Flames are welcome too, they feed my dragon and tell me what I'm doing wrong :)  
> Story Notes: Boromir is *not* evil, people!  
> Part 2 of the Legolas-Boromir story arc, 'Doomed to Sorrow', begun in 'Stranger Things'. Set after Moria but before Lothlrien.

  * THERE * FOR * YOU * By * Ares *



They pushed on through the night, refusing to stop even for rest or to tend injuries received when the orcs attacked their small camp. Merry, Sam, Frodo and Pippin made no sound of complaint, despite the fact that the going was harder than Aragorn had ever pushed them. Gimli looked grim as ever, his fingers twitching on the hilt of his axe as though he wished to part an orc head from its body. Legolas stalked ahead of them, eyes grimly fixed on the trail.

Three of the Fellowship were missing. They had, sadly, gotten used to Gandalf's absence since Moria, though none would ever stop mourning him. But after the attack, two others were missing: Aragorn and Boromir. The two Men had been overcome the night before, when scores of orcs took them by surprise.

Even more surprising, the orcs had not even tried to obtain the Ring. They had taken the swordsman and the Ranger and vanished into the night as though they had never been. One might have been forgiven for thinking the whole encounter was a nightmare, if not for the telltale patches of blood, signs of a scuffle and Boromir's sword lying abandoned and bloodied on the leaf-strewn grass.

Sam had collected the sword and was carrying it carefully in a makeshift sheath, despite the fact that the weapon was almost as tall as he was. The simple gesture almost brought tears to Gimli's eyes.

They followed the trail the orcs left relentlessly. Gimli noticed that the trail was too obvious, even for orcs; either they were being led into a trap, or the foul creatures wanted them to follow.

If the latter were so, Gimli feared for his friends' wellbeing more so than normal.

The four hobbits trudged after the Dwarf and the Elf tirelessly. After all they had been through the Fellowship had a deep bond which transcended friendship. They would not dally while two of their own were in mortal danger.

The events of the previous night ran over and over in Gimli's mind. He had been hacking at a particularly determined opponent when he had heard Aragorn scream for help. The desperate note in the Ranger's voice had spurred him to swing around, axe held ready, but he was too late. The orcs, mounted on black horses much like those ridden by the Nazgl, had overcome Aragorn. Gimli had turned wild eyes on the clearing only to see Boromir succumb to a volley of blows from several orcs.

The black horses ran faster than the hobbits or the Dwarf could hope to move, or even Legolas. They vanished into the darkness like ghosts, leaving only the trail that Legolas, Gimli, Merry, Pippin, Sam and Frodo were following.

But with each passing moment, the chances of them finding their comrades unharmed grew slimmer.

* * *

Consciousness returned slowly to Boromir. Oblivion seemed less painful than his body right now, and somewhere deep in his subconscious he registered the fact that he was a prisoner, a situation that was rarely pleasant. And anyway, his dream had been much more enjoyable. It involved Legolas, a very limited amount of clothing and that nice little clearing in the forest.

As he slowly regained his senses, several things became apparent.

One, he was definitely no longer in the forest. He was lying on a hard, cool surface that had the distinct odour of cut wood. And even with his eyes closed, he could feel that he was in an enclosed space. The air felt different.

Two, he was bound. Cold metal encircled his wrists, ankles and throat, and as he moved slightly chains rattled.

And three, he was not alone.

It was this last discovery that prompted the Man to shake off the last vestiges of unconsciousness and open blurry eyes. His first thought had been correct; he was inside a large room with a polished wooden floor. He assumed the room was large, anyway; it had that echo-y feeling that large rooms often did. He couldn't see far enough to tell whether it was really large.

His second thought had also been correct. Chains ran from his wrists and ankles to rings of iron in the floor. Probing hands found a metal collar around his neck, from which a shorter chain ran to meet a ring in the floor. The length of the chain was so short that it was unlikely he'd be able to rise from a kneeling position.

He still sensed a presence in the room, though he could see nobody. The chain around his throat prevented him from turning, and he suspected whoever was with him was there.

A soft chuckle reverberated through the room and slow footsteps moved around him. His vision was still blurred, undoubtedly from some form of drug, and all he could see was a light-coloured haze walking around his prone form like a predator inspecting its prey.

Boromir had never felt more like prey, more helpless. He couldn't even see who had captured him.

He rose to a kneeling position, disliking the vulnerability of lying on the polished wooden floor. His captor had removed his boots and tunic, thankfully leaving his breeches. The air was cool on his naked skin, a slight breeze ruffling his hair.

The woman - the footsteps were too heavy to be those of a man unless he was much lighter than most - continued to circle Boromir, wordless. The Man asked, "who are you? What do you want with me?"

Again, that feminine laugh reverberated through the room. "You? Who ever said it was you I wanted, Boromir?"

A chill ran through him. Whoever this woman was, she knew his name. The number of enemies who knew Boromir's name, and who would have been capable of this, were very few.

"If I do not concern you, why do you keep me here?"

"Because, my dear Boromir, if you wish to bait a trap, what better bait to use than the man your quarry cares for most? Or the heir to Isildur, Aragorn himself. I am sure that your companions will wish for the life of one of you, at the very least. Or are hobbits, Dwarves and Elves harsher than I had been led to believe?"

"Is Aragorn unharmed?" Boromir asked, feeling a spike of fear for the Ranger. Aragorn was strong in his own right, but there were many ways to break a man.

"He is alive and unharmed... for now," his faceless captor replied, humour colouring her voice. "Whether he, and you, remain that way rests entirely on the shoulders of your comrades. If they should take too long to arrive, I may find myself forced to allow the orcs to have you."

The pale blur circled Boromir again, stepping over trailing chains as though they were made of poison. His vision was still blurry, but it had improved slightly. Enough so that he could see soft grey leather boots and the hem of a pale blue gown. Any finer details were hidden by blurred lines and shapes.

The woman knelt suddenly, taking his chin in gloved fingers and looking into his face. He could vaguely make out delicate features in a pale face, eyes a dark smudge, mouth undeniably smirking. Hair the colour of honey tumbled around slender shoulders. She was pretty, even without perfect sight Boromir could tell that. At the moment her features were twisted with hate and contempt.

She released his chin and laughed. "Oh, you are a Man of Gondor indeed! I see it in your eyes; the same indomitable spirit. I almost hope your friends tarry a while yet. I SHALL enjoy finding the means to break you."

* * *

Legolas stared into the fire they'd made when weariness had finally forced them to halt. The hobbits were fast asleep and Gimli was on the other side of the fire, sharpening his axe.

Legolas shifted his grip on his bow, wanting nothing more than to shoot shafts into the eyes of every orc who had laid hands on Boromir, or perhaps shoot shafts somewhere lower and more painful.

When Legolas had been injured close to two weeks ago, Boromir had volunteered to look after him until he was able to travel again. They had sought out shelter at a farmhouse where the second-eldest daughter, Theoni, had gotten Boromir to admit to his feelings for the Elf. Legolas had had doubts about the relationship at first, but Boromir had proved that his feelings were genuine with the most phenomenal kiss Legolas had ever experienced. Subsequently, a forest clearing had been the scene of a tryst between the two that had ended, somewhat appropriately, with clothing strewn over the clearing and Boromir and Legolas rather entangled under a blanket.

Since they'd rejoined the Fellowship, the two had kept their relationship under wraps for the most part, waiting until their turns on watch before indulging in their passions. The others had noticed that the Elf and the Man got on better than before, but they marked that down to companionship.

The idea of orcs harming his lover made Legolas' blood boil.

Gimli set down his axe and sharpening stone and walked over to Legolas. "We need to plan this out," the Dwarf said softly. "Rushing in is only going to get us all killed."

"I should continue on my own," Legolas said. "I'm faster than you or the hobbits, and I don't tire as easily as Sam, Frodo, Merry or Pippin. I will be able to hear any foes before they see me, and it will be easier for one to get to our friends than it will for six."

"Legolas-"

"Don't argue with me, Gimli, you know I'm right. You and the hobbits follow as fast as you can, but I'll go on ahead," Legolas said.

The Dwarf sighed. "Much as I hate to admit it, you're right. You'll be faster on your own. But... be careful, Elf. I don't want to have to explain to Aragorn why I let you get yourself killed."

Legolas slung his quiver of arrows onto his back and picked up his bow. "I'd best travel light if I'm to catch up to them with any speed," he said. "Take care of the little ones. And good luck."

"Good luck to you as well, Elf," Gimli said gruffly as Legolas vanished into the dark night.

* * *

Aragorn paced the length of his cell, a million and one questions forming in his mind. He had seen neither hair nor hide of his captor since awakening in the cell, nor had he seen any of the Fellowship, though that was something he was glad of.

He had no way of keeping track of the passing time, but it felt like several hours had passed since he woke. He'd heard footsteps and rough orc voices, but he hadn't heard anything about the rest of the Fellowship. He had no idea whether they were prisoners, as he was, or even if they were still alive. It didn't appear that his captors were going to be forthcoming with their information, either.

Which was why he was so surprised when a key turned in the lock and the door to his cell opened. An attractive blonde woman wearing a pale blue gown and grey leather boots walked into the cell.

"Ah, I'm glad to see you are awake," she said. "And you appear to have taken no lasting damage from my orcs."

"Who are you?" Aragorn demanded, unknowingly repeating Boromir's words. "What do you want with me?"

The woman laughed. "I am Threnody, and you are bait, Isildur's heir. Bait to trap the most exquisite prize of all."

Aragorn's blood ran cold. Did this woman want the Ring? Whether to give it to Sauron or to use herself, it could not be allowed. The Ring had to be destroyed.

Threnody folded her hands demurely in her lap, looking so much like a prim, timid maiden that Aragorn's mind had trouble connecting her and danger. She looked at him solemnly and for an instant he was aware of how much like Legolas she looked. Both had blonde hair, brown eyes, the same pale skin, slender form and catlike grace. But this woman lacked the pointed ears and much of the breathtaking beauty of the Elves.

She laughed again, seemingly reading his thoughts. "Nay, my friend, I am no Elf. I claim neither their fairness of face nor fleetness of foot. Many have mistaken me for one, however. I wonder will Boromir do the same, once his sight has returned?"

"Is he uninjured?" Aragorn demanded.

Threnody smiled. "How alike you Men of Gondor are! He asked me the very same question when I revealed that I held you also. Yes, he is unharmed for now. If I were you I would hope your friends arrive soon, for my orcs grow restless. They dislike having two prisoners and not being allowed to have their fun."

"Why do you tell me this?" Aragorn asked. "Surely it serves no purpose. What then is the reason you come to me? I will tell you nothing of our Company, nor will I aid you in retrieving that which you desire."

Threnody laughed. "Ah, yes, Boromir told me much the same. You Men are certainly obstinate, I will give you that. No, Isildur's heir, I come to you only so that you may know what your purpose here is. You are bait, and as such, you need not remain untouched if you make yourself a nuisance to me and mine. Be warned that if you should displease me, I will have no qualms about handing over an injured hostage."

"But you do need me alive," Aragorn stated. "You know my friends will never bargain with you if I am dead."

"True, I do know that. I am not a fool, Isildur's heir, nor am I weak-willed, woman though I be. I can make people see that which they desire."

Aragorn blinked. Suddenly, the woman in front of him had changed. Dark hair replaced blonde, ears grew points, soft lips formed a smile and words.

"Hello, my love," Arwen said.

* * *

Legolas ran through the night, keeping to the shadows, following the trail left by the orcs. They had abandoned their horses at a ford, where the black beasts had refused to cross, and Legolas had easily picked out two sets of footprints that were different. Their owners were carrying burdens.

Legolas' hand curled around the long dagger at his belt as he followed the trail. The tracks were fresh; he was not fair behind them now. Less than half a day's journey lay ahead of him, by his reckoning.

Gimli and the hobbits were somewhere behind him, probably only just setting out. He'd left most of his things with them, taking only his bow, arrows, the long ivory-handled dagger and two smaller knives that he slipped inside his boots. Despite the fact that he'd been up since dawn of the previous day, he was ready to keep going for as long as it took to find Boromir and Aragorn.

Hours passed quickly as he ran, keeping his eyes on the footprints in front of him. He looked up in surprise as the sun burst over the horizon, lighting the large plain he was travelling across.

Highlighted against the sunrise was a large dwelling, harsh and craggy against the softer lines of the plain. The tracks of the orcs led toward it.

Legolas turned his path to the dwelling. No doubt whoever lived there already knew he was coming. There was no point in trying to hide his approach. But if they thought that defeating him while they held Boromir would be easy, they were going to be unpleasantly surprised.

* * *

Boromir heard light footsteps approaching. Hinges creaked as a door opened, and whoever entered halted, a gasp leaving their mouth. Soft, hesitant footsteps came toward Boromir, and a lithe, slender figure knelt before him.

Boromir gasped. Legolas knelt in front of him, blonde hair falling into concerned brown eyes, slender fingers reaching up to cup his face tenderly. The Elf was silent, his expression stricken.

"L-Legolas?"

"Shh. 'Tis I, Boromir. What has she done to you?"

"Nothing. Nothing yet," Boromir replied, his chained hands seeking Legolas' wrists, drawing the Elf to him. "Legolas, we must find Aragorn and leave this place."

"Why? What does she want?"

"I don't know. She speaks of traps and quarry, but I cannot tell whether she desires the Ring or something else. Are the little ones safe? Is Gimli with you?"

Legolas' lips curved into a smile. "They are well. Tell me what she has said."

"It does not matter," Boromir said. "Legolas, we must find Aragorn."

"Why? What has he done for us save brought us on this path that led you here?" the Elf demanded. "What loyalty do we owe him?"

"The hobbits care for him, as I have come to," Boromir replied. "Frodo looks to him for direction on this quest."

"Why should the quest be on Frodo's shoulders alone?" Legolas asked, placing his hands on either side of Boromir's face and gazing at him, brown eyes earnest. "We see how he suffers with the Ring, why should we not relieve him of that burden? You and I could do so much good with the Ring, Boromir, just as you said at Rivendell. Why should we not take that chance?"

Boromir's blood ran cold and he pulled away from the Elf. "Who are you?" he whispered. "Why do you tempt me so?"

Legolas' fair features twisted into a foul mask as he hissed, "it is what you wanted all along, Boromir. Why deny it?"

Boromir squeezed his eyes closed. "You're not real. You aren't Legolas."

"Who else would I be? Boromir, the hobbits are not made for quests such as this. We are lucky they have survived this long. How much longer can they last?"

Boromir covered his ears with his hands. "You're not real. You're not real!"

Long after he had been left alone, the Man whispered, "you're not real..."

* * *

Aragorn looked up in surprise as Arwen entered the room. She sat beside him and said, "I am glad to see you awake once more, my love."

"Awake? Arwen-?"

"You have been ill for some time, my love. The fever has given you nightmares. You kept crying out that you had to help 'Frodo'. Who is he?"

Aragorn sat up slowly, surprised to find himself lying in a large bed in what appeared to be Rivendell. Arwen sat beside him, her dark eyes concerned. "What troubles you, Aragorn?"

"How... how long have I been sick?"

"Since many days before October twenty-first, love. It is nigh winter's end now," Arwen told him.

"That can't be. We left here in December," Aragorn protested.

Arwen frowned delicately. "Who left here, love? For what purpose?"

"The Fellowship. Myself, Boromir of Gondor, Gimli son of Glin, an Elf named Legolas, Gandalf the Grey and four hobbits. How do you not remember?"

"There is nothing to remember," Arwen told him gently. "You took ill with some unknown fever. We were unable to heal you for some time. My father only recently was able to draw the illness from your body, though you were still terribly fevered. The fever broke last night, but you are still very ill. I know not of those of whom you speak, except for Gandalf the Grey. He has been among us several times, though not now. Legolas of Mirkwood also is a familiar name, but he is with his father."

Aragorn shook his head. "No, that can't be. We left to take the Ring to Mordor and destroy it."

Arwen laughed prettily. "Such things are the stuff of dreams, my love. Mordor is dark, yes, but no threat to us, not since Isildur's time. Come, my father will assuage your fears."

The door to the chamber opened and Lord Elrond walked in, his dark eyes weary yet relieved.

"Ah, I'm glad to see you're awake," he said. A chill ran down Aragorn's spine as Elrond continued, "we feared for your life at one point. That is behind, now; you are out of danger."

"From illness, yes," Aragorn muttered, "but not from lies! Reveal your true form and stop taking on illusions that ill suit you!"

Arwen blinked and changed. Dark hair became blonde, ears lost their delicate points. In Elrond's stead stood an orc, slavering and ugly.

Threnody glared at him. "I will find your weakness, Isildur's heir!" she snapped. "Neither you nor Boromir can resist me for long! He is closer to breaking than I could have hoped at this point. It will not be long before what I desire is in my grasp. And then, when I have no further use for you, I will let the Orcs have you."

"Then you may as well kill me now. I won't help you," Aragorn spat. "Nor will you find a weakness in me that you can exploit. I know your tricks now, woman, and they will not fool me again."

Threnody laughed. "You say that, Isildur's heir, but I doubt you will so adamant when the time comes for you to be tested."

She stood up and ordered the orc out of the room. Glancing scornfully over her shoulder at the Ranger, she sneered, "you may be strong, Isildur's heir, but you will break. And you cannot lend your strength to Boromir. He will break, and then you will die."

She left, locking the barred door. Aragorn sank onto the bunk and began to pray.

* * *

Tiny pattering footsteps, like those of children. Boromir refused to look up. After what had happened with Legolas... but no, it hadn't been Legolas. It had been some trick.

It had to be.

"Boromir?" a soft voice asked. Boromir lifted his head and gazed into Frodo's face. The hobbit was standing in front of him, that mournful expression on his face.

"Boromir, what's going on?" Frodo asked. "I don't understand this at all. Is it about the Ring? Is that why she is keeping you and Aragorn here?"

"Go away. Leave me be."

"Boromir, I'm afraid. I'll give her the Ring and she won't hurt you. I'll give it to her-"

"No!" Boromir shouted. "You must not do that!"

Frodo looked taken aback. "Why? Surely she is better than Sauron?"

"You must not give her the Ring, Frodo. It is what she wants," Boromir explained labouriously. "And those who want the Ring are those who must never possess it."

'Why do you not take your own advice?' an inner voice asked him. 'You desire the Ring, yet you advise Frodo to give it to nobody who desires it. What is your choice?'

"But she'll hurt you and Aragorn if I don't," Frodo protested. "I don't understand, Boromir. You said we shouldn't destroy the Ring. Why must it now go to Mordor?"

"I was wrong!" Boromir cried. "Now leave me be. These illusions will not help you."

Frodo vanished, to be replaced again by Legolas. The Elf bent and took a fistful of Boromir's hair, jerking his head up to look him in the eyes.

"Pretty words, Boromir," Legolas spat, "but I know you don't believe them. You want the Ring for yourself."

"I did," Boromir whispered. "Now I know better."

"Liar," the Elf hissed. "You will betray us sooner or later, Man of Gondor. Why not make it now?"

He released Boromir and took a step back. He waved a hand and the chains melted away from Boromir's limbs and throat. The Man kept his kneeling position, watching Legolas warily. The Elf held out a hand and Boromir choked back a cry.

Sitting on Legolas' palm was the Ring.

"Take it from me," the Elf invited. "It is easy, Boromir. Take three steps and take the Ring."

"I won't betray you," Boromir whispered, averting his face.

"Three steps, and the salvation of Gondor is yours. What does it matter that an Elf is hurt?"

Boromir's head snapped up. Threnody had taken Legolas' place, but her voice was still that of his lover as she said, "take it, Boromir. I give it to you."

"No. I won't betray Legolas. I can't!"

"Three steps, Man of Gondor. Three steps."

The Ring glittered.

"Take it, Man of Gondor. Protect your people. What do the feelings of one Elf matter in times such as these?"

Threnody held out her hand, the Ring nestled on the palm.

"Three steps is all it will take."

Boromir averted his eyes and whispered, "I won't betray Legolas. I can't."

* * *

Legolas walked up to the walls enclosing the large tower. He could smell orcs, but none very close. Orc voices were in the courtyard, no more than half a dozen by the sound of it.

Trees grew close by the walls. Legolas swiftly climbed one and watched the orcs in the courtyard. There were five, milling around and talking. The Elf took his bow and fired five arrows in quick succession. Each on hit its mark and the orcs fell dead to the ground.

Legolas swung over the brick wall and landed lightly in the courtyard. He notched another arrow and continued on to the tower.

The interior of the tower was dim and cramped. Legolas replaced his arrow in the quiver and unsheathed the long dagger. Keeping to the shadows, he crept through the corridors, searching for any sign of Aragorn or Boromir.

His keen ears caught the sound of a taunting voice that sounded oddly familiar. As he followed the sound, he realised that the voice was his own! But how could that be, unless by some trickery?

He sped up, running. Large oaken doors barred his way. The voice came from behind the doors, and he could hear the words now.

"Three steps, Man of Gondor, and your people are saved. Is not this sacrifice worth it?"

Boromir's reply stunned him.

"I won't betray Legolas. I'd rather die."

Legolas burst into the room, bringing his bow up and notching an arrow in a single fluid movement. A blonde woman was towering over a kneeling Boromir, holding out her hand. Her head snapped around as the Elf entered the room.

"Stand away from him," Legolas ordered in a soft, dangerous voice. "Now, or I shoot you where you stand."

The woman stepped away from Boromir, an expression of utter hatred on her face. Legolas kept his arrow trained on her as he walked over to Boromir and knelt.

"Boromir?"

"L-Legolas?" The voice was choked, as though Boromir was struggling to keep back tears.

"It's me, my friend. What has happened here?"

The woman spoke. "I happened, pretty Elf."

Legolas spun to face her, anger clear on his face. "I did not speak to you, woman. Remain silent unless I do so!"

She shrugged. "As you wish."

Legolas turned back to Boromir, concern darkening brown eyes. "Boromir, it's me. Look at me."

Amber eyes met his own, and Boromir stood shakily, reaching out with one hand to trace Legolas' cheekbones and the curve of his jaw, ending with a soft caress under his chin. The Man leaned forward and brushed his lips over the Elf's, recalling the taste and scent of his lover, knowing that was one thing Threnody couldn't forge.

Legolas responded to his kiss by gently pulling away. "Boromir, this is not the place," he said softly. "We must find Aragorn."

Boromir swallowed. "I had to be sure it was you. Threnody... I had to be sure."

"It is me, Boromir, have no doubt about that," Legolas assured him. "Come, we must find Aragorn and leave this place. The very air sickens me."

He swung around and grabbed Threnody by the wrist. "You will show us where my friend is or you will die," he threatened, touching the tip of his dagger to her throat. She nodded and gestured to the door.

Legolas kept a tight grip on her wrist as he pushed open the door. As he walked into the corridor, something fell on them from the roof. A strong arm snaked around his neck and squeezed, while another wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him back against a hard chest. A rasping voice hissed, "you threatened my Lady, now you die, pretty Elf."

'An ambush! I should have been paying more attention,' Legolas berated himself silently, fighting to breathe. His dagger fell to the floor as his hands grew numb and dark spots invaded his vision. Suddenly, the arm around his throat fell away and strong arms supported him.

"Easy," Boromir said softly. "They didn't see me as much of a threat, so I was able to surprise them. Are you injured badly?"

"I'll heal," Legolas assured him, gingerly touching his bruised throat. "I should have been paying more attention."

He looked down at Threnody, who was lying motionlessly, a dagger buried in her stomach. The orc's throat was slit.

Boromir smiled humourlessly. "Come. We should find Aragorn and leave here."

* * *

The door to Aragorn's cell opened. He didn't look up; what was the point when it would just be another of Threnody's tricks? Even when two sets of footsteps came toward him he didn't open his eyes or sit up.

A hand touched his shoulder lightly and Legolas' voice spoke. "Aragorn? Are you well?"

"Nice try, Threnody," the Ranger said. "You've taken voices before. Try to come up with something new next time."

"Aragorn, it's me, Legolas. I'm not Threnody. She's dead."

Aragorn sat up and gazed at the two figures standing in front of him. He wasn't sure whether Threnody would have said that; it certainly hadn't sounded like her. Boromir stood behind the Elf, looking exhausted and pale but all right otherwise. Legolas looked down at Aragorn with concerned brown eyes.

"Are you injured, Aragorn?" the Elf asked anxiously.

Aragorn shook his head. "No. No, I'm all right. How did you find me?"

"This place isn't as big as it looks," Legolas replied. "Also, we followed the path of least resistance. You're in a cell, so you aren't as much of a threat to them. The orcs are mainly guarding the entrance to the higher keep. I wonder what's up there."

"We don't really have time to find out," Aragorn said, standing. "How long have we been here? I lost track of time, and she used some sort of magic to make it seem as though I was back in Rivendell, with Arwen."

"She did much the same to me," Boromir said, "only it wasn't Arwen I saw."

He and Legolas exchanged a glance and the Elf offered Boromir a small smile. They looked back to Aragorn, who was tugging at the cuffs of his pants. "I don't have any shoes," he complained.

"Your spare things are with Gimli and the hobbits," Legolas told them. "Come, we should leave before the orcs are alerted to Threnody's death."

The three crept through the corridors of the tower, sticking to the shadows. Twice Legolas slew orcs who saw them, but other than that they made it out of the tower with little resistance.

Across the plain Legolas could see the shapes of Gimli and the hobbits. He, Aragorn and Boromir met them halfway across the plain, and they turned back to seek shelter in the forest. Though it was doubtful the orcs would be intelligent enough to come after them seeking vengeance, Aragorn wanted to be away from their sight as soon as possible.

Once the camp had been set up, Legolas volunteered to go for water. A few minutes after he left, Boromir slipped away from the others, following the Elf to the riverside.

He was still fifty feet away when the Elf turned. Brown eyes were serious as he asked softly, "will you talk to me now, Boromir?"

Boromir closed the gap between them quickly, striding to Legolas' side and, taking the Elf's face in his hands, kissed him. Legolas responded with surprised enthusiasm, but suddenly pulled away.

"Boromir-"

Boromir pushed Legolas against a tree, one hand trapping the Elf's wrists, the other cupping Legolas' chin. He jerked away suddenly, gasping. He released Legolas and stepped back, a look of self-loathing and horror on his face.

"Oh, god... I'm sorry! I... I don't know what-"

Legolas gently placed a finger on Boromir's lips. "Shh. I understand. And it's not that I don't want to, but after what happened, the others will come looking for us if we are away for too long. Tell me what happened, Boromir."

"She... she used your body to try and make me betray the Company," Boromir said, his voice thick with unshed tears. "When I refused, even to you, she... told me to take the Ring, even if it meant your death."

"But you didn't," Legolas said.

Boromir stared at the Elf, anguish clear on his face. "But I wanted to! I wanted the Ring so badly I could feel it in my hand!"

Tears trickled down his cheeks as he spoke. Legolas moved forward and caught the Man's hands between his.

"Boromir, listen to me. I heard her tempting you as I came down the corridor. And I heard your reply. You said you would rather die than betray us. That speaks much for your character. Pay no mind to the words of a dead witch."

Boromir shook his head. "No. That's not what I said."

"Boromir, I heard you-"

"I said I'd rather die than betray YOU, Legolas. Your love is the one thing that has kept me from taking the Ring from Frodo by force. I do want it, Legolas, more than you could imagine. I can't help it."

Legolas' eyes were sad. "I know you do, my friend. The Ring calls to us all. You may be sure that you are not alone in this. You don't have to go through this alone. I'm here for you. I always will be."

He closed the gap between them and slid slender, strong arms around Boromir, leaning his head on the Man's chest. "I love you, Man of Gondor, and I always will. Look to me when you need strength."

Gentle fingers tilted his head up so brown eyes met amber. Boromir's voice was husky as he said, "I know that, Legolas. But I am afraid... that even you do not have enough strength to aid me. I am afraid that maybe this is something we cannot defeat."

"We will defeat the Ring," Legolas said. "Together."

He covered Boromir's mouth with his own, slender fingers entwining in Boromir's hair of their own accord. Boromir's arms curled around slender shoulders, holding the Elf against his chest as he responded with a passion that rivaled that of their first real kiss. He was vaguely aware that the others would be looking for them, but he couldn't make his lust-fogged brain comprehend that fact.

Until there was a squeak and Merry and Pippin tore off back toward the camp, eyes wide.

Boromir turned to a blushing Legolas. "Whoops."

The Elf looked pained. "We are going to have a lot of explaining to do."

~Finis~


End file.
